


Glitched: An X-Men Story

by heroesinahalfshell91



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Families of Choice, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6717055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroesinahalfshell91/pseuds/heroesinahalfshell91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amanda's life was a hellish nightmare, beaten and sexually abused by her father, her boyfriend and his friends she falls into a world of pain, suffering, rape, crime, and drugs. That is until she's saved, by the X-Men. Struggles still remain ahead for this young woman, as personal strength, convictions, and abilities are stressed time and again, testing her already rocky foundation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Not that this isn't fun or anything!" Amanda said her voice both full of sarcasm and a type of lilting sorrow as she looked at the four boys she was with. Her insides wretched, she hated them and the things they made her do, the things they did to her, but she also couldn't imagine her life without them.

Their night, like many before it had been full of under aged drinking, drug abuse on the boy's behalf, and grand thief auto as they stole a car from the lot Rick's dad owned. Then there was the sex, she had been pressured her into it, forced later on. She was vulnerable and they knew it, abusing her in the same ways by her father did and they had no shame in exploiting it.

Tommy her boyfriend and their scrupulous ringleader had been the first to see it in her, the silence, the way she flinched away from people the quiet tears no one took notice of and used it to manipulate her ruthlessly and at every turn. It was always, "Am, do you want to stay at my house tonight, I mean it's his night off right?" as he traced long sad lines down her cheeks where tears had tread many a times, or "Come on babe, just a quickie, please!" he would beg nuzzling up to her neck, or "I love you!"

That word, love, she kowtowed and trembled before it, both a thing longed for and a thing dreaded, it was because of that damned word that she would yield herself to him. It was when they were done and she was sticky inside from him and lie there in the depths of self-loathing and despair that the others would come in and ravage her further.

That was why she drank, to forget them, to forget her father, to drown out hot breath on her breasts, to wash away their weight and vanquish the unholy throb they filled her with.

As she turned from the situation at hand her breath smelled of vodka and her eyes were red rimmed from intoxication and tears. They were at their school where they were seniors and she a sophomore. She looked back at the building hating herself now more than ever; for even here in that place where she was supposedly protected no one gave a damn about her. This was a place where teachers watched as the boys hunted her like hungry wolves to a lamb's slaughter, where her counselor could care less and simply threw condoms her way each time she tried to speak, to actually speak and let fly all those dark secrets she had been holding onto so tightly for so long, a place where her life had no value.

Standing with her back to the seemingly haunted place that conjured images of Hell she had this funny idea of where her life was headed, and she couldn't shake loose of it.

Tommy was eighteen, soon to be nineteen, soon to graduate. She would be alone with her dad again and she feared that more than anything. So, Amanda knew what she would do to escape, she'd go with Tommy wherever he went. Just to flee home she'd spread her legs for anyone with a buck, like he'd inevitably ask her to, what difference would it make anyway? And then she'd get hooked, like all the other whores on every drug known to man. Eventually they'd find her covered in, filled with seamen a needle from her arm, her womb scarred and scraped out from many back alley abortions. Yes, they would find her cold and dead finally lying among the trash, where she belonged.

Tears burnt freshly in the girl's eyes and she took a few hurried steps away.

"Come on Am!" Tommy said, his tall frame silhouetted by the light of a street lamp, his angular features gently illuminated. Walking to her he wrapped his arms around her waist just before she reached the street. He pressed his lips in a deceitfully loving gesture to the back of her head. "It's not like we're going to get caught or anything!" he said gently, hugging her, leaning forward to taste her lips, a hand caressing her beneath the frills of her underwear making her shudder.

Amanda trembled as bile rose within her throat, she hated him, hated his touch and longed to strip the flesh from her bone so she needn't feel it ever again. God she wanted to die. "This isn't the first time I've heard that line!" she whimpered, her voice quavering as she tried to step out of his grasp. Tommy held her firm.

"Fine!" he said jolting her sharply his gentleness changing into harsh painful, clenching one fist, nails sharp and biting, around the bruised and swollen flesh he'd been caressing making her scream. With his other arm he gripped her in a terrible vice like manner making it nearly impossible to breath, adding to her terror as he shook her, Amanda's head snapping violently to either side as he did. "Go home to your old man; pray that he stays a sleep tonight!"

Amanda let out a sob as she struggled to get free. "Let go of me Tommy!" she screamed trashing about. "Let me go, please!" she begged even as the futile fight in her died away. She fell to the grass in a trembling weeping heap as he released her. He stared at her eyes cold and hard, as she pulled away her jeans, peering down to inspect any damage that might have been done.

Tommy kicked her. Again, and again, and again he kicked her, the steel toes of the boots he so loved crashing against her stomach and ribs, making bright orbs fly before her darkening vision as the blows met the girl's face which she so desperately tried to protect.

"Do you like it when I do this?" he bellowed. "Huh? Do you get off on this?" there was a resounding thud as he made contact with the side of her head causing her to desperately roll away. The others just watched, they'd seen Tommy at work before and knew better than to intervene. "I don't like doing this," he lied giving her a hard shot to the gut hoping to dislodge any bastard children that might be growing within. His attack slowed, and then eventually ceased.

Looking down at the young woman with disgust the boy sat cross legged on the grass beside her, breathing heavily as she cried uncontrollably in inconsolable pain and agony. Tommy sighed.

"Hey," he said reaching out at touching her back, she curled defensively. "Come here." he murmured pulling her into his lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he rocked her like a babe. "I'm so sorry!" he repeated for emphasis. "I hate doing that to you I really do!" he said his voice hitting all the right notes as he feigned remorse.

"Hey," he said tipping her chin up to look at him. "I love you!" Amanda froze her mind failing to, for a moment comprehend as her teary eyes shifted between his. A small sob of relief escaped her, then he thrust his lips against hers with a viscous hunger.

After a few minutes Amanda was set shakily to her feet, her movements sluggish and painful. Tommy held her gently aloft as he escorted her to the front doors. If Tommy had any hope of getting into even community college he first had to graduate, and his grades were, to say the least, inadequate, as were the rest of theirs. That was why they were there, that was why Amanda was picking the lock, and that was why she was going to disarm the silent alarm system as soon as they were inside. It was also why she was going to hack into the school computers and alter a few file, she was very good with computers.

"You gotta stop using her dad like that!" Rick laughed punching Tommy playfully in the arm.

"Why?" Tommy asked with a grin as he watched his girl at work, "The drunken bastard's finally good for something!" Tommy, Rick and the others laughed at this. It was true, the lout was a mechanic who got work mostly out of the sympathy or sheer desperation of those around him, and never had he once worked a car sober either as a mechanic or a driver, and that was how his pregnant and battered wife died, the accident.

"Yeah, but I mean doesn't it seem a little messed up?" Rick continued despite his own personal depravities towards the girl.

Everyone fell silent when they heard Amanda's hushed and tear strained voice call Tommy's name. Walking towards them, her face already badly swollen and ballooning further with each second she quietly whispered. "It's unlocked, and the alarm is down."

"How'd she get the code, sleep with the principle?" Henry, star of the varsity football team asked. Elbowing Rick they laughed.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Luther said eyeing her in a way that reminded her of the devil. "As loose and stretched as she is down there wouldn't wonder if the whole town'd fit." he reached out and played with a lock of her brown hair causing Amanda to freeze like a deer in the headlights. Tommy slapped his hand away, before nodding for them to go inside.

Soon they were all present, and making their way to the principal's office. Amanda wasn't surprised when only Tommy followed her though, the others had their backpacks slung over their shoulders and were no doubt going to wreck the school. The monitor flickered to life at Amanda's touch illuminating the room with an subtle iridescent glow. Tommy fidgeted nervously beside her as she worked to alter their grades. Amanda knew it wasn't out of a fear of getting caught, or failure, he was coming down.

After a few seconds Tommy bmade a line right there on the table and snorted it before she could tell him not to. Amanda's heart raced apprehensively as he sat on the ground head lolling back eyes closed in ecstasy.

"Are you done?" he asked his voice sounding distant and buried somewhere deep within his chest.

Amanda bit her lip, "Almost."

"Good." And with that he was on top of her, the chair fell smashing her head to the ground. His hands were everywhere in an instant, tearing at the buttons of her blouse ripping ruthlessly at her bra causing it to bite into her shoulders, his mouth dry and hungry upon hers, he bit her lips and forced his tongue between her teeth.

"No!" she managed to shout shoving him away. A blow to her head caused the world to spin and dance dangerously darkening just around the edges. He'd hurt her bad, she thought faintly, yielding as he began removing her jeans. Tears rained down from her eyes and a cry from her lips as he roughly thrust himself inside tearing her anew with the veracity of it. "Stop," she pleaded. "Oh please stop!" as his motions became more violent. In the end he was beating her with his fists each time he went deeper, a manic deranged light to his eyes.

Suddenly the others ran into the office and pulled him off, he bellowed turning on them a brief scuffle ensuing, but the red and blue lights coming in from the window sated his anger and brought about a false sobriety. Zipping his pants as he stood he looked and saw his bag had ripped, white powder covering both floor and bloody girl who lie half conscious, eye lids fluttering weakly.

"Sorry babe," he said crouching over her his mind blaring at him. "But life's a fucking bitch, and they gotta find someone!" he locked his lips with hers before whispering breathily in her ear. "If you squeal, don't expect my door to be unlocked anymore!" he smiled. "That's right, your daddy can fuck your brains out for all I care!" With that he rose his mind not yet fully comprehending everything, then the four fled down broken and vandalized hallways and out the back door.

For a moment there was quiet in the room and Amanda fought to stay awake. The monitor's light changed, brightening as it flickered from the dark command prompt screen to Word. Soundlessly, for the keys were not touched words appeared on the previously blank glass face of the computer.

"Amanda," it said. "Amanda get up, don't die Amanda, don't die…" The silence was broken by the sound of police boots coming nearer. "Good night, good bye, good night… Amanda…" the screen read half quoting the words of a favored childhood story before flickering off as the police entered, guns drawn, flashlights blinding.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until sometime later when there was a sharp, rapid knock at Amanda's front door. Stiffly the young woman made her way to it, a heavy ankle alarm impending fluid movement and slowing her down.

"Yes?" Amanda asked her voice sounding distant and hollow as she edged the door open, mindful to keep her right arm pinned close to her chest. Her eyes were red, but scrutinizing as her mind seemed to race at the speed of light while managing not to move at all. Tommy had been by almost every day when he knew her father was out or drunk off his ass asleep, and every day they had sex, coursing her through with a loathing and self despise she would be unable to live with if not for the gifts, presents he brought with him also, rewards and incentives for leaving his name, and the names of those in his gang out of all the legal drama which was still unfolding months later.

It helped her though, the drugs, making all the pain, the suffering go away, and he had so much of it. The things she smoked and it made her relax, the ones she swallowed made it to where she actually wanted to have sex, the stuff she snuffed made her feel invincible, and things she pushed into her veins with a needle that made her feel so very good and far away from even herself. All in all, she was beginning to wonder how she had ever survived without any of it, because more and more now, she didn't just want it, she needed it.

"Amanda?" a tall man with sharp brown hair, angular features and red sunglasses asked as he looked at her solemnly, the only thing missing from his straight and narrow appearance was a name tag and a Bible.

"Yeah, but I'm not looking for redemption... So..." she started dizzily as she looked to him and then the little red Amandas reflected back at her, wishing for them to die. "So you can tell whatever prayer group you got my name from to go..." Amanda broke off into a bout of laugher. "To go to Hell!" she snickered at the irony too good to pass up. The pair waited patiently for the giggle fit to die down, the redheaded woman stood, green eyes perturbed, lips pressed tight together like she might cry.

"May we come in?" the woman asked in a voice that was choked.

"No," Amanda scoffed she closed the door slightly. "My father's sleeping." The teen half heartily fought off a second bout of laugher, the beast that was her father had fallen asleep on her bed, like always when he finished with her, looking out of place, yet somehow belonging among the pink lacey ruffles and silk.

"Amanda, are you alright?" the woman asked in a soft tone tears obscuring her view as she gazed down at the inebriated young woman.

"Fine." the girl said tipping back slightly as she tried to close the door. "You're very tall..." she then observed glancing between the statuesque pair. "And pretty."

"Amanda please, we just want to talk with you, we know that you aren't safe here." the man firmly asserted putting his foot in the door, still not fully comprehending the situation before him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Amanda protested in a soft hiccup as breathing suddenly and briefly became a foreign action. She moved a hand to her chest, her heart felt like a butterfly in a bottle before you drop it off something very high. She wasn't sure she liked this feeling, but it was… fine…

Falling against the door she pushed on it in an effort to crush the man's ugly black shoed foot. With a grunt he pulled it quickly away, his brows angrily furrowed and jaw sharply set as the door slammed with a bang. The Professor had said this would be a hard one, but so far it was just irritating.

"She's scared Scott." Jean said to him as the tears which had been threatening to for a while now, finally peaked, before tumbling from her eyes. "She scared and lost and alone, and Scott she's hurting so badly!" she sobbed trying but failing at first to regain composure, the unrelenting, and unchecked psychic aura that surrounded Amanda touching the woman's telepathic field with painful, electrifying consequences.

"I know Jean, but if what The Professor told us is true she isn't safe here, and you know he left out something, he always does." Scott replied running a hand through his hair irritably.

"It's because he respects people's privacy," Jean found herself saying, always the first to defend her mentor. "He doesn't like to pry, but when he has to, he shares as little personal information as possible."

Amanda, they had been told was a violently abused girl, who'd had a calamitous run in with the law. Furthermore, she was a highly gifted young woman whose mutant signature was picked up rather quickly by Cerebro, and was someone he didn't want to lose, not solely for ethical reasons, but practical as well, given the suspected nature of her powers. This was all the detail the pair had been given to go on, other than the fact, that somehow Amanda had affected Cerebro after her initail discovery, making it challenging at first to relocate her for recruitment.

"Scott," Jean said clearing her throat. The woman took a deep breath, steeling herself and wiping away her tears, knowing that she needed to be strong for everyone involved. "She's on drugs."

Scott gritted his teeth, turned to look at his girlfriend with a stern expression on his face, Jean gave a remorseful nod.

"I can try talking to her though, my way." she offered, squeezing his arm lightly, only acting when Scott had given her his approval.

"Amanda," Jean's voice echoed terrifyingly in the girl's mind causing her to bolt up from the sofa where she lay. Her ears buzzed with the unnatural sensation, they seemed in a panic as her mind filled with words, ideas, and meaning forming in her brain as they were unable to hear anything that might cause it to be so.

Amanda tried to brace herself, beginning to fall back, having sat up too quickly but it was all too much for her intoxicated mind to handle and she fell off, to the floor. There she remained as the words continued trickling in one by one in a slow easy procession.

"It's alright, you can trust us, I promise!" the voice said earnestly. Amanda closed her eyes which refused to focus on anything before her, no, she wasn't hearing the words as they somehow, some way formed as fully and tangible, little living things in her head. She felt sick.

The voice belonged, to that incorrigible woman outside, unsure of how she knew this Amanda struggled to her feet. There was absolutely no sound, as she covered and uncovered her ears in a disbelieving test of reality, the words were just born slimy and wriggling their way into the consciousness of Amanda's own mind. Amanda leaned into the seat of the couch, on her knees now, breath coming in short, uneven huffs as tears stung her eyes. She didn't like this wanted it to stop, why didn't Tommy tell her the pills were going to make this happen? she thought panicked. There was a sensation similar to that of waking as she felt a ghost pull from her mind. Maybe she'd taken too much, she wondered then.

"Scott," Jean said her tone full of concern as she turned towards him, and brow furrowed. "I don't think she's…" Jean paused unable to find the word. "There's something wrong, I've never felt a mind so elusive, or," again she paused with a sour expression, the inhibition of the narcotics clinging to her consciousness as she pulled out of Amanda's head. "All I know for sure is that she needs help, she won't ask for it, but she needs it, and she needs it now."

Scott's eyes hidden behind a wall of red gazed at her full of uncertainty, never having questioned The Professor so fervently in his heart than he did now. What would they need a drugged up, criminal, and vandal for anyway? Despite this, something in Jean's look spoke to the protective, chivalrous side of his personality. Scott nodded before taking the door handle and turning it.

"Please," Jean murmured walking to the girl who now lay sprawled on the carpet, her head rolling about on the floor words that seemed to be half conversations on varying topics spurted from Amanda's mouth as she quietly wept unable to comprehend anything more than her own world of mind and illusions. "Amanda, please try and get up, we have to go… We'll take you somewhere safe where you won't ever be hurt again, ok?" Jean's voice was high and pinched as she battled a chocking sob, the girl's deluded mind dangerously reaching once more for her own.

"Come on," Scott said through clenched teeth feeling more and more useless and irate as he stood waiting for something to happen his gaze occasionally shifting towards the hallway, down which light snoring could be heard. He looked dismally at the girl who's awareness of him was trapped far away through a maze of her own making. Amanda shook her head.

"But it's not safe." the woman whispered telling her what she knew all too well already as a semblance of understanding rose within the teenager.

"I don't know you!" Amanda stated coming back into herself in a moment of false sobriety, before breaking into a shill laugh that was quickly followed by a deep guttural scream. "I don't know you!" she repeated her eyes darting about the room as she clawed at her own forearm, the walls were peeling and from them crawled the spawns of Hell.

"Would it be any better, or safer to say here, where your 'boyfriend' beats you, exploits your gifts, makes you cheat, and steal?" Scott asked clearly getting angry. Amanda, face drowning as tears fell to her chin, broken right arm beating against the ground with an unintelligible rhythm glared up at him.

A sob escaped the girl, "I want to die, I just want to die, let me die ok?" she begged in a broken voice. "Please, please will you let me die?" she asked hopefully. Then she stopped, she stopped moving, she stopped crying and talking and breathing, she froze there on the spot. The two X-Men were alarmed and tried to rouse her, then Amanda smiled, breathed out a sigh as if relieved then drifted away into sleep.

"Scott, Jean," came the Professor's voice from more than two thousand miles away, from all the way on the other side of the country. "She's resting now, but it is imperative that you get her back to the mansion immediately. I'm afraid your current mode of transportation will not suffice, flight will only aggravate the narcotics that have collected in the spinal fluids at the base of her skull and the expanse of the foramen magnum. The change in elevation and pressure could have potentially fatal consequences…" he explained.

"We understand Professor." Scott thought, his inner voice grim and detesting as he glared at the wretch with spite.

"Don't think too harshly of her Scott," the Professor interjected. "She's been through a heinous ordeal."

"Sorry Professor."

"It's quite alright, Scott. Get her here as quickly and safely as possible." he not unkindly gave them their orders before pulling his mind free of theirs.

Jean looked to Scott sorrowfully, but managed a smile. He returned the gesture before stooping and picking up the many times broken girl who was enjoying her first truly peaceful sleep since she was a toddler. The sound of her father rousing could be heard from Amanda's room causing terror to flash briefly in Jean's eyes. Quickly the duo hurried from the house and gently lay the child across the back seat. Climbing into the front they both exchanged harried looks but would say nothing, before speeding away from the house that seemed happy, and full of welcome and cheer, from the outside, that is…


	3. Chapter 3

The sky was purple, painted with lighter shimmering hues and spangled with an overabundance of stars as the stolen rental car roared across a long dusty highway somewhere in New Mexico. Scott was at the wheel; he was beginning to get tired, his eyes weary and in need of a good rub, but Jean was sleeping soundly in the passenger's seat, her forehead against the cool of the window's glass. He didn't want to wake her, ask her to take over, they had a long way to go and there'd be plenty of time for her to drive later. Besides, looking at her now, so peaceful, so serene, it felt like a sin to wake her. Lovingly, regardless of her slumber Scott did find his hand drifting towards hers, his fingers interlacing ever so carefully, as with the other he still gripped the steering wheel.

The road was long and narrow, two lanes only, but it was safer than any main street or highway, after all they were kidnappers now and the girl they had in tow had unknown powers and a drug induced instability that made her exceptionally dangerous. Scott glanced in the rear view mirror at the girl who had yet to stir since they began their journey east ward. It would take them at least two days to get back, and that, he calculated, was without stopping. He wondered how bad it would look if he walked into a hotel with a sleeping strung out girl in his arms, or worse if he walked in dragging a screaming teen tripping out on who the hell knows what. Still though whatever the Professor did seemed to be working.

"Mm…" Jean groaned shifting in her seat slightly. Scott looked at her, she didn't seem to be waking up, only dreaming.

The man stretched, arching his back against the chair, hoping to stay alert and remain from getting stiff. Leaning down he pushed the volume button and the speakers blared with static, jolted in the darkness, he quickly turned the radio down before checking the girls, still asleep. He flipped though the stations until he found something he liked and then leaned back. Scott's fingers gently rapped a rhythm on the steering wheel his head nodding to the beat. He was still a young man and rather enjoyed the feeling of being alone on the expanse before him. For some it would make them feel very small and alone, but he felt a freedom he seldom had experience with before, being a mutant constricted him plenty but, and he would never admit this to anyone, well maybe except Jean, but the ostracizing affect of prejudice, and his own lack of control made him feel very isolated.

Cacti lined the road in spiny droves, intersected periodically by acacia, mesquite, palo verde, and dry thorny scrub brush. After a while the road began to look so like itself no matter how far they traveled he began to fall into a recurrent state of hypnosis unaware of how far or long they had truly been driving for. The clock was his only gauge, and even that seemed to lie as the face read 1:30, he couldn't have been driving that long and still have gone nowhere, two and a half hours, it had been two and a half hours since he had checked last. Carefully he reached beneath his glasses and rubbed an eye wearily. Maybe it was time to wake Jean after all.

Scarcely had he thought of this before something, an animal, leaped out before the careening vehicle. With a reaction of great speed honed by years of training and real life battles with demons, demigods, and creatures as old as the universe itself he stood on the brake and leaning heavily to the right shot his arm across Jean's chest gripping her door's armrest for extra security.

The tires roared with displeasure kicking up a raging storm of dust and dirt, the nose of the car bent low to the ground, the bumper grinding terribly. Jean was awake in an instant an all too uncharacteristic scream from her lips her nails dug into armrest to the right and on her left the seat itself. She was in a fit of sheer terror, in the milliseconds Scott had to think when first he hit the brakes he knew she would be, anyone would be, only this was different.

Jean had once confided in him, the very first time her telepathy had come to light was when she was ten and playing outside with her best friend, Annie. The ball had gotten away from them, rolled into the street and if witnessing it wasn't horrendous enough, Annie's mind, the mind of her best reached out and gripped Jean tightly just moments before impact and continued to hold on as she died. Jean had felt everything, watched every hope and dream Annie had, had for her life extinguished one at a time after that hit and run driver plowed through her, and all of it from within the dying girl's own mind. Jean fell into a dark seemingly permanent depression because of this, until the Professor helped her, that is. Jean was always trying to be brave though because, the truth was, despite the Professor's help she was still scared to death of cars.

"No!" she cried shrilly, her mind unconsciously reaching out in every direction for some sort of control and comfort as something struck the hood soundly, then the windshield, rolling over the roof and then hitting the ground behind them. Amanda who had gone forgotten in the rear of the car crashed into the backs of their seats before landing roughly on the floorboard. There was a moment of surreal tension and fear as no one dare breathe.

"Scott?" Jean whimpered after a short pause, her forehead, despite his efforts, had battled the dashboard and lost spectacularly, a large red spot evident where a lump would soon arrive.

Through gritted teeth her boyfriend replied huskily from the sudden wave of fear, and a steering wheel to the sternum. "Jean are you alright?" he was stupid, and reckless, he could have killed them all and he knew it, he truly hated himself in that moment. Jean nodded then in slow weak necked motions her head throbbing, but to no avail. He'd been incapacitated in a manner of speaking, large holes burnt through the now molten and stringy glass of the windshield when his glasses unexpectedly chose to take flight.

"I'm fine." she whispered holding her ribs which stung sharply from the seatbelt as she bent to pick up the ruby and quarts lensed spectacles. "Here." she said her voice wilting and shaky as she, trembling held them towards him. After dawning his glasses he looked to the woman he loved, her eyes were teary, and she was biting her lip trying to halt those them and the terrible question that flooded her mind which was still buzzing about them with an uncontrollable telepathic panic. "I-is it alright?" she finally managed to ask, her voice echoing with flashes of imagery, unintentionally invading his brain.

Scott let out a heavy breath as he looked at her mournfully. "I'll go see…" he said doubtfully, giving her a weak smile and her knee and gentle squeeze. Scott paused before he got out and glanced back at the child lying crookedly where she had fallen, he frowned hoping she was alright and seeing tears form in the corners of her eyes. Scott exited hurriedly.

The hood had a dent, it wasn't very large and the red smear of blood adorning it stood out against the shining silver. His heart stung and a weight drooped his shoulders and his stomach turned, he'd never killed anything before, never wanted to. Taking another long breath he made his way to the rear of the vehicle. Scott wretched, illuminated in the deathly red brake lights of the car in a small crumbled heap was a twisted furry body slick and gleaming in several spots.

"Oh God!" the X-Man exclaimed lamentingly as he approached the badly mangled coyote. Stooping he stifled a sob with one hand shutting his eyes. While with the other he reached out and gently stroked the heaving side of the dying animal. "I'm sorry." he said weakly as its bleary eyes rolled in his direction, they were opened wide, the whites standing out starkly as they began to redden, they were pained and questioning, yet startlingly lacked the accusative waves the man had expected to find.

Scott tried to fight back tears as he ran a hand through his hair. The coyote looked at him, neck twisted terribly and took a shuttering breath nudging Scott's hand before letting out a tiny whimper and departing the world.

Scott berated himself for his emotional weakness, wiping at his already weary eyes as he felt stray tears sliding out from under his shades his as he looked at the poor creature and thought of moving it so that if by chance another car came this way it would not defile the broken body further. Squeezing shut his eyes he slid his hands beneath the canine.

"Oh, God!" he cried out the sensation of broken bones shifting and rubbing against one another beneath the now seemingly loose skin and muscles that once made up the animal's form, then he noticed the animal's belly had been split open. Bile rising in his stomach Scott crawled a few feet away before losing its contents. He stayed there for several moments trying to remember how to breathe as well as forget the terrible sensation of holding the broken body each attempt bringing only more heaves. When finally he stood the man tried to compose himself before returning to the car.

"Is it…" Jean couldn't finish her sentence, she couldn't bear to say it, she already knew the answer. Her mind had been writhing in pain and fear from the start, now she wasn't unable to reign it in and she heard everything! Scott shook his head as he opened the rear door. Bending he scooped up Amanda, trying to be gentle and lay her back on the seats, making sure to be cautious of her arm.

"Are you alright?" Scott asked after sitting in the driver's seat for several minutes gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and sore as he gazed out at the melted glass, the blood stained, dented hood, and the road which never seemed longer with spite.

Jean didn't answer her face was buried in her hands as she began to sob.

"I'm sorry…" Scott said helplessly as he rubbed comforting circles into her back. He sighed starting up the engine once more when she flinched away. There was nothing else to say, nothing else he could say, glancing in the rear view mirror he felt a dragging weight upon his soul; he gave Jean's knee a squeeze and began pulling away from the terrible place. The road went on just as dusty and dark, lined with just as many trees as before without any remorse for the small life that was just taken moments ago. Scott felt nothing but scorn for the seemingly endless expanse of smooth winding dirt as he drove wind now in his face. After several minutes of silence he turned to Jean, she had stopped crying a while ago but still remained with her hands over her face. He bit his lower lip.

"Jean…" he tried. "Jean, I'm sorry…" his voice broke. "I-"

"Scott…" Jean said, her voice sounding cold and airy, it sent a chill down his spine immediately when he looked at her, his foot pressing lightly on the brake, something was wrong. "Oh, Scott!" Jean gasped clasping her stomach. "I-I was so scared… I…" her voice trailed to a whisper and then died.

"Jean, what's the matter?" he asked slowing even more. "Talk to me!" he demanded sharply out of concern.

"I reached out Scott…" she said slowly a hand reaching for her head where the welt was forming. "I just reached out, I couldn't stop myself…" she sobbed. "Scott…" she said looking up suddenly, her eyes were dark and utterly consumed by the black of her pupils. They shown like brightly polished marbles with the inhumanity of glassy doll's eyes. "I can't get out Scott…" she whispered her voice frightful. "I've tried… I can't get out, I can't!" her chest was heaving as she began to screech with terror her red polished nails biting into the flesh of her face.

"Out of where?" Scott asked trading glances between her and the road. "Jean?" the woman's eyes flicked to the back seat. At that moment both young women let of terrible blood curdling screams. "Jean!" Scott shouted as the car, its battery faltering and engine dying rose sharply into the air. Neither could hear him though, they were both somewhere else, somewhere very far away.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The young women stood nude gazing at each other, Jean's body long and lean, her breasts round and hips gently rolling, with fertile beauty, she covering herself with her arms hoping to provide as much modesty as possible. Amanda's form was thin and wilted like a dying willow her wrists were spider webbed from drugs burning with white hot rage through her veins, they were lined with many scars from suicide attempts, her breasts and genitals mutilated from the same razor, she was haggard and sticky with seamen.

Jean let out a sob as she stared into the dead black eyes of the girl, this dark void in which they stood was her mind, and the Amanda that stood before her was the girl's projected self-image, the self-loathing and hatred rippled from her in endless waves.

"Amanda." Jean said but her voice was stolen away by the darkness never to be regained. The dark was cold as it swam around them, Jean found it hard to breathe as it penetrated her soul. "Please." she tried but it was no good.

Then, to her horror she felt hands of smoke caress her neck and watched in fear as they groped and ran along the other girl's body, the darkness giving birth to forms of terrible brutality as they tried prying Jean's legs apart.

"Amanda, make it stop!" Jean cried as silently as Amanda had all her life. "Make it stop!" she begged as her body was flooded with a sharp pain as they vied for power and then one finally entered. Tears flooded her eyes as she watched the same happening to the child in whose nightmare she found herself, only, once inside the girl they began to rip Amanda apart a dead scream on her lips.

Jean's mind was poisoned with a wave of pain and blood, then she stood, blessedly alone, somewhere different, somewhere new. She blinked, Amanda was on the bathroom floor her words flowing from her wrists like a river, 'Pain, regret, fear, lost, alone, help, no more, escape…' Jean leaned down and stroked her hair unsure if this was a memory distorted by time and drugs or just a dream. She jumped as the door was kicked in, it was her father Jean hugged herself suddenly inseparable from Amanda as he gripped them tightly and shook loose the blessing of oblivion from them, no, they were damned to live as their wrists were bound.

They screamed and their world was torn asunder. They were on a bed now, restrained by ropes a hanger slick with red lie discarded on the floor beside them. Amanda-Jean turned away, their eyes shut tightly against the pain and horror, a baby impossibly small lie at the end of the bed, fighting for breath with lungs too underdeveloped to function. They felt it, the pain burning in their womb where a child had not long ago been housed, pain from the hanger, the robbery and the shame of it all.

Fire ripped through them then as demons cackling at their pain reached up from the bed and tore them, their claws leaving tails of fire in their wake. The girls thrashed struggling to break free a priest smiled down to them his eyes devouring their fleshy forms before anointing their foreheads with the cross, inverted. They plunged down into hell, sadists and rapists found them a most divine delicacy as they marred their souls with wicked pleasures. The world turned again violently as they blended into one being small, fragile and alone, a bird with a broken wing yearning for flight, a boy finds them and scoops them gently in his palms the bird that they are knows peace, only for a moment, before he gets the hammer.

In death Jean blinked and found herself separate again, she was in the backyard watching a silent ceremony that was held between hysterical mother and dead child. A boy, the boy with the hammer crawled over the stone wall, Jean knew his name, Tommy, her stomached turned in time with Amanda's as he caressed her, "It's just a cat," Jean lied to him in the same breath as the girl as they became one once more, turning away from the tiny grave "Just a stupid cat."

The alcohol burned all the way down, the bottle quickly empty; he'd brought them, more presents still to be had.

Collecting the bubbling liquid in a needle he gripped their body and thrust inside making them fight and cry, the fiery needle quieted them though as the world faded from all knowledge, the drug possessed Amanda-Jean making them its own, Jean fell out of Amanda, and swooned on the bed beside her, let Tommy do as he pleased, what was the difference? Their minds buzzed with a light cotton filled sensation as they tried to float away. Tommy's pupils flared, his body trembling like water at boil, the colors of him flowing into the white walls of the room. A box cutter appeared in his hand he was cutting them along their bellies, and their faces, good, they thought as the blood began to flow, just good…

They were in the void again alone, and separate just as before, then Amanda reached up and digging her nails into her face tore the skin away, her eyes popped gushing blood and aqueous humor her scream was silent but unending as she stripping the flesh from her form. Jean cried.

"Jean!" came a deceivingly familiar voice, in fright they unified once more, they didn't know that man, and even if they did he would be like all the others.

"Get away!" Amanda-Jean screamed back.

"Jean, it's me." Light flooded their unified mind and a soft horror stricken face gazed at them sorrowfully and Jean knew peace, just Jean. Slowly, the astral form of Charles Xavier took full form, glowing like an angel of mercy he reached out, his hand passing through Amanda's spiritual form, and gripping Jean who was within her by the wrist. Gently he began to pull.

"Professor!" Jean wept. Her thoughts clashed with his, the nightmarish hell she had been trapped in invading his consciousness as the last of her came free from the Amanda shaped cage that had confined her.

"I know," his voice lamented, blue eyes softening, a hand coming to cup Jean's cheek. "I'm so sorry, had I known." His remorse could be felt like a drowning rain as he pressed a father's kiss into the woman's forehead. "Jean, bring yourself back to Scott, he needs you… The others are on their way; I will… handle things from here…"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jean concentrated, but Amanda's pain still coursed through her, there was a pain sharp sudden scraping, as if broken glass was being drug through her mind and Jean was back in the car.

"Jean!" Scott cried stomping repeatedly on the brake in vain as the car raced through the air, held aloft by Jean's subconscious telekinetic distress. With an exhausted scream from her lips the woman returned the car to its former place jolting everyone.

Once the car was grounded the world was still for a breath and then Jean leaped from her seat her belly dragging over the stick shift as she collided with her boyfriend, arms gripping his neck tightly. "Hold me," she cried frantically burying her face into his chest. "Please, just hold me!" She wept for herself, she wept for the cruelty, she wept for the baby, and she wept for the lost little girl who suffered it all. Scott, terrified at the thought of losing her gripped Jean as a drowning man would a life raft, for she was just that to him.

"I've got you," he whispered into the fiery hair, adorning her crown with a loving kiss. "I've got you!"

Jean was asleep, utterly spent from her time in the girl's mind when a silent ghost wreathed in a billowing mist lighted over them before landing softly nearby. The jet flooded the red New Mexico dessert with light as the ramp lowered to the ground. Her white hair a stark, luminous contrast to the black of the sky Ororo emerged first her face grim with concern. "Scott is everything alright?" she called approaching the still vehicle with long determined strides.

Scott looked at Jean who he had pulled into his lap. "For now a least." he replied honestly as the nimble and blue furred Beast followed close behind her.

"What has happened?" Ororo asked her voice was stern and angry, but the exhausted man knew better, that was just her way when she was worried. "The Professor woke us and said that there was an emergency, that he could not explain any further other than you needed immediate assistance!" her tone was demanding and very unhappy as she closed the distance between them, fear flashing in her gaze.

"I'm sorry…" Scott said weakly. "I don't know what happened… Jean, lost control of her powers, something just went wrong." he said shaking his head, Ororo pursed her lips unhappily as she looked at him and then Jean.

"Is this the child?" she then asked Hank coming to stand beside them. They watched as Amanda's head rolled frantically from side to side. Scott nodded as he slid from the driver's seat holding Jean aloft.

"I'll get her." Hank offered with a friendly hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Thanks," Scott nodded walking towards the plane. "Be careful though, her arm's broken."

Hank frowned at the idea. "Come on." he said softly to Amanda as he leaned into the back of the car and scooped her up. "Easy." Hank whispered to her as a small moan escaped her.

"Is she alright?" Ororo asked him as the two walked back to the X-Jet.

"It would appear so." he shrugged carrying her up the ramp. "Though, as the old adage goes, 'appearances can be deceiving.'"

Inside Jean remained asleep lying across a bench seat, strapped carefully in. Scott with one hand gripping the yoke while the other flipped switches on, a desperate need for control shining in his face prepared anxiously for takeoff. Ororo gave Hank's shoulder a squeeze as she passed him moving to sit beside Scott. Hank lie Amanda on a gyroscopic bed and gingerly strapped her down for extra security. He then produced a minor anesthetic and gave her the injection, advised to them telepathically not moments ago, just in case.

After they had been in the air for half an hour they were buzzing over Pennsylvania. No one had spoken in that time; Hank had his book, Scott the sky, and Ororo her own brooding thoughts, never satisfied with half answers or partial truths when it came to those she considered family. It was when it grew too much for the Weather Witch to bear that she snapped at her copilot, "Scott what happened?"

The man beside her sighed. "Storm," he said feeling almost natural in his appointed position of the pilot's seat but still heavily perturbed by the day's events. "I really don't know, and I suspect the only one who does is the Professor, why don't you ask him." Ororo who felt just as helpless as Scott had the entire journey up until this point was not pleased with this answer, her brows arching.

"So you have no indication as to the events of this evening?" she pried with a cool, sharp tone. "Dents, blood, and lazer burns must be a random natural occurrence in New Mexico then, like UFOs, not to mention psychic trauma!" Storm berated with sarcasm.

"Just, not now, ok?" Scott barked. "Its been a long day."

Ororo opened her mouth to go on, only stopping when she spared him a glance, the woman could tell that he was hurting, the sharp angle his jaw was set at a telltale sign that he blamed himself for whatever it was that had occurred. "Alright." she sighed, resigning herself for the time being.

It was during following stretch of silence that the power to the plane first flickered. Hank was less alarmed than he should have been; more preoccupied with the works of Shakespeare he found the momentary fluctuation of light more annoying than anything else as he delved into Hamlet; he flushed with momentary embarrassment as he realized he was indeed not in Elsinore. The momentary shut off of the engines however was much more dire a situation than a skipped word or two.

He rose from his seat and walked to the sleeping girl whose brow had broken into a sweat. Laying his palm across her forehead he closed his eyes as he checked for fever all the while murmuring, "It's quite alright…" as she whimpered at the contact.

The second time the power cut however it was for nearly thirty seconds and in that short time a sharp nose dive threatened, and the three had all but made peace with their maker only one gifted with flight. When power did return Hank flinched away from Amanda whose hair danced playfully with lightning not unlike Storm's, but in a manner that reminded him more of the Greek gorgons as her locks writhed on the table.

"Beast?" Cyclops called back to him. His mind still puzzling and fur raised by the static the other man didn't reply.

Then it happened, the lights strobbed, and flashed, fluctuating with the erratic power outages making the inside of the jet look like a rave, an armor of rippling lightning dancing over the unconscious girl.

"Take the plane in slowly!" the Professor's voice was urgent and strained as it flooded into their minds. "The heightened stress is causing the girl's powers to emerge in full, and as I feared the change in elevation has caused a flush in her foramen magnum…"

"What does that mean?" Scott shouted as he began to cut the thrusters and Storm rose to ensure that Jean was properly buckled into a seat. "Professor?" Scott yelled after receiving no response.

"It means that the narcotics that have collected in the base of her spinal cord are being released into her blood stream…" Hank said working as quickly as he could to restrain the girl further in anticipation of a crash. "In laymen's terms, she's 'tripping out… man…'" he explained with a joke even he found distasteful, it was the fear making his so short on wit and he knew it.

"Fine." Scott said through gritted teeth. The school was in the radar's range, in a matter of moments and Scott cut an engine on either side. "Come on…" he whispered to himself as they closed in on the home stretch. The power failed and the landing gear buckled and finally broke beneath them as they crashed, the metal screamed as it scraped along the concrete ground, a wing clipping the hanger wall sharply before they came to a halt, their landing spectacularly harsh. Shaken each looked to the other before Scott raced to Jean, he stopped perplexed; she was still resting quite peacefully.

"Hey," came a gruff voice from the now open ramp. "Chuck wants you to bring the girl to med bay." Logan said in a demanding tone. Beast quickly unbound her and followed his yellow clad teammate to where they were needed as Scott and Ororo cared for Jean. Once inside Hank put Amanda on a bed as indicated by Logan.

"Thank you." A spent looking Professor Charles Xavier said his chair rolling to the head. Gently he cupped the girl's brow, his own furrowed in concentration. "Now, I need you to leave. Tell Scott that Jean is fine and will sleep until morning." The two men waited, each with questions to which they wanted answers. "Now." The Professor demanded in a tired yet firm voice.

Exchanging displeased glances they turned and left.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"It's alright Amanda, you're safe." A voice floated to the girl in the darkness. Looking she saw a man, he was long and thin, his nakedness gave her a great apprehension but there was something about his eyes that gave her a moment of pause, only a moment however, for a sickening wetness filled her and the demon thrust avidly within its claws tearing at her breasts. Tears filled the man's eyes. "Let me help you!" he pleaded, and with that a battle began inside her raging mind as a sword appeared in the man's hand, and a white armor clad his form. It had been a long time since Charles had battled the demons of a mind so badly broken but he still had the fortitude all he needed now was her help…


End file.
